


Losing Your Memory

by Miss_Peletier



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Missing Scene, Post 3x10, dreams with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7359277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Peletier/pseuds/Miss_Peletier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she’s awake, Abby Griffin is trapped in the City of Light. But when she sleeps, she’s plagued by mysterious visions of a man with dark hair and dark eyes, a man who remembers things that she’s forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing Your Memory

           The first night she saw him, they were all just images.

           A man with sandy blonde hair and eyes as blue as the ocean. A girl with his hair, his eyes, but the same steely glare that Abby saw in her own gaze when she looked in the mirror. A man with dark hair and dark eyes, wearing a black jacket. He smiled, and something about the warmth behind his brown eyes and the bashful tilt of his head unnerved her.

           She awoke with a gasp, her pulse skyrocketing in the relative peace of Arkadia at midnight. Her bedsheets were tangled around her legs, cemented there by a combination of restless sleep and sweat, and she untangled herself slowly while trying to make sense of her odd dream.

            _Who are you?_  Abby wondered. Their images were like an itch that she couldn’t quite scratch, an annoyance that wouldn’t leave her in peace. But the harder she considered them, tried to make sense of what she’d seen, the more those memories floated away.

           _They are not part of the City of Light_ , a voice in her head told her, and then their faces were gone.

                                                        ********

           The second night she saw him they were in the Chancellor’s Room, the space flooded with the light of early morning. He leaned against the metallic table, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands as he let out a soft sigh.

           “Abby,” he said as he turned to her, his brown eyes red-rimmed. He was gripping the sides of the table so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Abby couldn’t explain the foreign urge that blossomed within her chest when she saw his distress, but she felt a need to comfort him. To hold him. To ask him what was wrong and not relent until she had an answer. It occurred to her that she might have seen him smile once, in a time that fell just outside her mind’s grasp, and she didn’t like that he wasn’t smiling now.

           “Do you need help?” Abby said. “There is no pain in the City of Light. I can help you. Your worries will all disappear.”

           The corners of his mouth lifted in a joyless smirk. Again, that strange pull. Why, she wondered, did she care for this stranger so deeply?

           “Are you in pain?” she asked as she approached him, genuinely confused. The City of Light fixed everything. Certainly this man, whoever he was, had to know that.

           He laughed mirthlessly, running his fingers through his wavy brown hair.

           “I don’t want one of Jaha’s chips, Abby.”

           She tilted her head, a petite frown developing across her brow.

           “Why wouldn’t you want to be free of your pain? The City of Li-”

           “I’m going to kill him for doing this to you,” he interjected, a rage simmering behind his eyes that was wholly incomprehensible to her.  “I’m going to kill him for making you forget who you are.”

           “Why would you want to hurt Thelonious?”

            He broke eye contact, turning away suddenly. As she got closer, she noticed the rigidity of his posture, the deep set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders beneath his guard jacket. He was angry, and anger was not allowed in the City of Light.

           “You really don’t remember anything, do you?” he asked tonelessly, as if he already knew the answer. His hopeless demeanor made her heart sink.

           As she started to speak, she noticed the room was getting brighter and brighter. A peculiar roar had begun to drown out her words, and she had to shout to be able to continue their conversation.

          “What is there to remember?” she responded to his question with a question of her own, heartbeat escalating as her seconds with him ticked away. Her question had surprised even her – it wasn’t what she’d thought she’d say, it wasn’t what ALIE would have wanted – but it felt right to ask.

_There is nothing but the City of Light. Here there is no pain, no hate, no envy…_

         But just before she awoke, when she lingered in that misty place between sleep and consciousness, that familiar question reverberated for a bit longer before the chip silenced it.

          _Who are you?_

                                                       ******** 

           The third night she saw him, he touched her.

           They sat across from each other in Arkadia’s common room, staring at each other across a ramshackle wooden table. Music wafted from the piano to her ears, although she couldn’t quite place the tune.

           Other than the melodies of the music, they were completely alone. He seemed less distraught and more thoughtful, which caused that unfamiliar feeling of relief. For some strange, unidentifiable reason, she realized she didn’t like to see him upset.

           “You love this song,” the man said, his gaze slightly wistful. “I remember when you asked Macallan to play it for you.”

           Abby felt a sharp, stabbing sensation ricochet throughout her skull.

           “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she said, wincing against the discomfort. She shifted in her seat, hoping that movement might serve to dull the pain. “And I’ve never heard this song.”

           _There is no pain in the City of Light, there is no pain in the City of Light, there is no pain in the City of Light…_

           The man took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the air escape from his lungs slowly and deliberately.

           “I’ll never understand how they took everything from you. Do you remember Clarke? Callie? Jake?”

           Abby cried out suddenly, the pain in her head worsening even further. With each name came a new stab of sickening throbbing, and it felt as though her skull were being split open.

           _THEY ARE NOT PART OF THE CITY OF LIGHT!_

           The music continued, increasing in tempo and dynamic.

           “Who are they?” Abby asked quickly, and she was rewarded with another slice to the center of her head. “Aren’t you going to tell me who they are?”

           The music was blaring, intrusive, obstructive.

           “I can’t!” the man shouted. “You wouldn’t understand me if I did. You have to try to remember!”

           And then, with the music at an unbearable volume, he reached across the table and took her hand. He pressed his palm to her own, interlacing his fingers with hers in a grip tighter than she could have ever anticipated. She gripped him back just as firmly, and he flashed her the tiniest of wan smiles. His touch was electrifying, magnetizing, and although he was going against every principle ALIE had taught her she didn’t want to let him go.

           “You can do this, Abby,” he said, sincerity radiating from every facet of his desperate gaze. One last dreamlike sledgehammer blow to her head, a flash of light, and he was gone.

           But this time, when she awoke, things were different. For a minute, a small, feeble minute, she was able to recall everything that happened. No longer did the content of her dream slip between her fingers like sand: now, she found herself able to catch a few of the grainy details before they drifted away for good.

           Desperate, she ransacked her room until she found a small notebook. She kept repeating the names she’d heard in her dream over and over again like a sinner’s final prayer until she found a pen.  _Clarke, Callie, Jake. Clarke, Callie, Jake. Clarke, Callie, Jake…_

           Hands trembling, she scribbled the words on the lined note pad. And as she trudged her way back to bed, muscles aching as if she’d been running a sprint instead of visiting a subconscious world, she fell asleep with those names on her lips.

            _Clarke, Callie, Jake._

                                                       ******** 

           The fourth night she saw him, they argued.

           They were back in the Council Room again, but this time they sat on opposite ends of the table. He looked different then: instead of being the man with a beard and long, wavy hair, his dark hair was slicked and his face was clean-shaven. While he had seemed close and open last time they met, this man seemed far away, distant.

           And yet, she still yearned for his touch. Although many of the aspects of her last dream had faded (save the names Clarke, Callie, and Jake), she remembered how mesmerizing it had felt when their hands connected. There may not be pain in the City of Light, she thought, but nothing feels like that, either.

           “Abby,” he snapped, and she noted that his voice had turned cold, hard, unemotional. She scowled, unsure what to make of his change in demeanor. It was then that she noticed she was different, too: while her hair was usually in a ponytail in her dreams, this time she wore a braid. Her outfit had changed, too – instead of her black jacket, she wore a nearly floor-length coat made of patched denim.

           “What?” she asked dimly, unable to formulate a more fitting response.

           “Have you even been trying to remember? To figure things out?”

            Her head started to hurt, the ache resounding as potently as it had before, and his obvious displeasure wasn’t helping her discomfort.

            “I’ve been doing my best,” she said. Her words were numb and hollow even in her own ears, and she wasn’t shocked when the man gave a snort of disgust.

            “Your best,” he said, sharp and patronizing. “You’re doing  _your best_. You have no idea how many people need you, Abby. How many people are crying out for your help. And all you can say is that you’ve been  _doing your best_?”

             “It hasn’t been easy!” she exclaimed, glaring at him from across the room.

             While she wasn’t enjoying the argument, there was something enticing about the tension that crackled through the atmosphere when their eyes met. Yet another thing she could never quite experience in the City of Light.

            “Every time I wake up, I barely remember what happens here!” she continued. “How am I supposed to do anything to help when I wake up and it’s all gone?”

           “I don’t know!” he shouted, slamming his hands against the table as he sprang from his seat and began to pace the room. The shrill sound of the impact echoed around their enclosed space, and Abby pressed both of her hands against the sides of her head to lessen the blistering ache that only kept progressing.

           “I don’t expect you to understand!” she yelled back. “You’re not the one dealing with this. You’re not the one who, day after day, wakes up to one reality and falls asleep to another! Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?”

            He stopped walking, ceasing his precise, mechanical movements just long enough to meet her eyes.

            “As a matter of fact, I do.”

            Abby didn’t remember the last time she’d felt like this. There was something intoxicating about it, about feeling that fiery sensation bubbling within her veins, even though part of her turned colder every time she raised her voice. She was simultaneously addicted to it and repulsed by it.

            “How?” Abby was all but screaming now, raising herself out of her own seat to stand before him. His face was flushed with anger, and if the warmth on her cheeks was anything to go by, so was hers.

             She clenched her fists and he crossed his arms. “How the hell would you know what I’m going though?”

             “Because I have to live without you!” he responded in a roar, only seeming to understand what he said after he’d let it escape from his mouth. She could tell he’d betrayed more emotion than he’d intended as he shifted awkwardly in the stagnant night air, as he uncrossed his arms and took another step toward her. His gaze softened.

             “I have to wake up every day and know that you’re not there. I fall asleep and I see you as you were, as the Abby Griffin I knew, as the woman I…” he cut off abruptly with a noise that sounded like a quiet sob.

            Abby found herself unwilling to remind him that there was no pain in the City of Light.

           She opened her mouth to comfort him, but he kept talking.

           “I just…I hate seeing you like this,” he finished with an unconvincing nod and an unsteady smile. “I know you might not believe it, but this isn’t who you are. I wish I could help you realize that.”

          He looked so bereft that, on an impulse, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

          She felt the same effects as the last time they touched, except now they were amplified: it felt as though lightning were coursing through her veins, lighting her up from her head to her feet, and the mesmerizing sensation was almost enough to cancel out the headache. The man held her tightly enough to crush the air from her lungs. Abby decided that she enjoyed suffocating, as long as she did so in his embrace.

          “If this isn’t working, I won’t give up. There has to be another way.”

_There has to be another way._

           Suddenly, the headache stopped. The fog in her brain lifted momentarily, letting her earlier memories to shine through, and she knew exactly what to say.

           “Clarke, Callie, Jake,” she whispered, and the man went completely stiff. He untangled himself from her just enough to look in her eyes again, hope radiating from every ounce of his being.

           “What did you say?” he asked, and Abby couldn’t ignore the way his lower lip trembled just a fraction when he repeated his question.

           “Clarke, Callie, Jake,” she repeated with a grin. “I remember their names. Clarke, Callie, and Jake.” And as she said them, she got partial glimpses of a girl with blonde hair and a steely gaze, a petite woman with black hair and a warm smile, and a strong man with aqua eyes.

            The man in her dreams crushed Abby against him again, and his joyful laugh stuck with her even after she awoke.

                                                     ********

           The fifth night she saw him, she didn’t recognize their surroundings.

           They were in a dimly lit room with various paintings on the walls (one of which she recognized as George Washington – she had paid  _some_  attention in her Earth History classes) and books of all sizes piled on a rectangular table. A small bed invaded the majority of the space in the room’s northern half, and she found the man sitting on it.

           He was back to looking how he had the first time she’d seen him: long brown hair, a beard, and an infectious smile. She didn’t question her happiness at seeing his good humor – at this point, she expected it – and took a seat next to him on the soft comforter.

           “Have you remembered anything else since the last time we talked?” he asked, pressing one of her hands between both of his. The size difference was such that his palms swallowed hers entirely and part of her wrist, too, but she found the heat of his touch as inviting as it had been since the day he first reached out to her.

           “I know what they look like,” she said. “It’s not much, but it’s a start.”

          The man’s smile widened. “Let’s hear it,” he said.

          “Clarke has blond hair and blue eyes,” Abby said, feeling a rush of warmth when she talked about the girl that she couldn’t quite explain yet. “She’s only eighteen. Callie has brown eyes, and black hair. Jake has blond hair and blue eyes. They’re both around our age.”

           He affirmed the accuracy of her memories with joy, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Her headaches were long gone now, completely replaced by the thrill of being close to him.

           “I knew you could do it,” he said, beaming. He was clearly pleased with her progress, but there were still many things that bothered her.  There were still holes in her head where she knew things other than the City of Light would fit, and she wouldn’t be satisfied until she found the right memories to place into them.

            Something must have shifted in her expression then, because the man picked up on it.

           “Are you all right?” he asked, moving his arm away. Abby snatched it back and secured it in its original place. His touch wasn’t making her uncomfortable, and she needed him to know that.

           “I…” she started, and sighed. “If I’ve forgotten those people, do you think I’ve forgotten things about myself, too? What if…” she took a deep breath. “What if I’m not the person I think I am?”

          She looked at him expectantly under the low lights, wondering what reaction her words would provoke. Did he really know her? Was he even real?

          “Do you want me to tell you how I see you?” he asked. “Who I know you are, even if you can’t remember?”

           She nodded, overtaken with curiosity. He took both of her hands in his and began.

           “Your name is Abigail Griffin. You are the best doctor and Chancellor our people have ever had. You don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, even when it means breaking the law and putting yourself in harm’s way to reach your goals. And you’re smart enough to figure out the best way to do it. When you want something, there’s no stopping you.”

            He paused for a second, letting a small laugh punctuate his sentence. “That’s something I had to learn the hard way.”

           “Keep going,” she said, intrigued.

           “You’re the strongest woman I know,” he continued. “You love your daughter, and your people, with your entire heart and soul. There’s nothing you wouldn’t sacrifice for them, so that they could have a better life.”

           As he spoke, she began to see flashes of memories sparkle before her.  _Laughing with Clarke and Jake in a white room on the Ark. Finding Clarke on the ground, covered in mud and dust and dirt, and holding her close. Hugging Callie when they were young._

           “When you were Chancellor, you stayed up all night to plan supply runs and search parties – I tried to get you to sleep, but you were too stubborn. That’s another thing about you, Abby, you’re incredibly stubborn. But I grew to find it endearing, even when I spent most of my guard shifts on the wall worrying about whether or not you were getting any rest.”

           “How did I know you?” she asked, leaning a little closer. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining the redness that crept across his cheeks or if he really was blushing, but she found herself hoping for the latter.

           “We were…friends,” he said slowly, and she sensed he was selecting each word carefully. “We didn’t start out that way, not on the Ark, but when we came down to Earth things changed. You made me realize that here, on the ground, we could be better. We could choose to be kinder, gentler, and still be effective. I made you Chancellor, and you were a better leader than I could have ever been. You forgave me for the things I’d done, the things I couldn’t even forgive myself for. You saved my life. You saved me, over and over again, and…”

           He paused, looking her in the eyes. “And Abby, I fell in love with you. Even if you don’t remember a single thing about me, I’m still hopelessly, completely in love with you.”

           Something snapped inside her then, coming undone and unlocked, and she felt as though a floodgate in her heart had burst.

           She was kissing him before she registered the contact of her lips on his, threading her fingers through his hair and moving to press herself against him until she could feel the warmth of his skin through her shirt. This had nothing to do with the electricity she felt when she was around him, the magnetic nature of his touch, or how he shone like a beacon through the toxic smog of the City of Light: this was love, real love, and she’d forgotten what it felt like.

           She’d forgotten what it was to feel half-empty without another person, to feel her heart joined to another’s and realize they beat as one. Even if she still didn’t remember his name, how they met, or a single word they’d said to each other, she knew beyond a single ounce of doubt that she loved his man with every piece of her soul.

            But that, she remembered suddenly, was what love had always been. Love was placing her beating heart in another’s hands and trusting them not to squeeze the life out of it, and she understood she’d placed hers in his palms a long time ago.

             He made a noise of slight surprise when their lips met, taken aback at first by the unexpected gesture. But it wasn’t long before she felt him grow bolder, wrapping his arms around her waist and deepening the kiss. She moaned as his teeth grazed her lower lip, and breathlessly she realized he tasted sweet. The thought floated through her head that he tasted just like the berries they’d come to savor on the Earth’s surface, the ones that kept them alive when they feared starvation.

            She remembered him tasting sweet, and she remembered him keeping her alive.

            He kissed his way from her lips down her neck and to her collarbone as she slipped her fingers underneath his shirt, tracing his toned muscles with a feather-soft touch. The more he kissed her, the more she touched him, the more her old life returned in disjointed spurts.

           _Him handing her the Chancellor’s Pin. Finding him in the rubble at TonDC. Him running to get her off the operating table at Mount Weather. Staying up with her to get work done around Arkadia and talking her into getting rest. Laughing together in Polis in the Market. Finally realizing she loved him, but realizing it too damn late. Saving him from execution and their final kiss, the kiss that stopped her heart, the kiss that she thought about more often than she’d ever admit._

            She only snapped out of her reverie when his mouth left her skin.

            “Not like this,” he murmured quietly, an apology written in his eyes as his fingertips trailed up and down her lower back. “We can’t do this now.”

            “Why not?” Abby asked, continuing to play with the hem of his shirt and hoping he’d reconsider. “I love you, too.”

             He smiled with tired eyes, his words a defeated sigh.

             “Do you know my name, Abby?”

             She choked on the air in her lungs, trapping it inside her body, and it destroyed her to realize she’d have to exhale sooner than she remembered the name of the man she loved. It was right there, on the edges of her memory, and she wanted more than anything to be able to say it to him. She looked for that word in her head, turned over every stone and opened every drawer in her mind, but his name wasn’t where she’d left it.

            “I…” she stammered, horrified. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

            Her eyes began to fill with tears, but he cupped her chin and stroked her cheek to catch them as they fell.

           “This isn’t your fault,” he whispered. “You didn’t choose to forget. But I think we should wait, all right? Until we can figure out a way to get all of your memories back.”

           Abby nodded, not trusting her weak voice to hold up her words. They were both quiet for a time, still tangled in each other, dreading the moment when they’d have to let go.

          After a while they moved to lie together in the bed, sliding underneath the silken covers and intertwining their bodies. Abby rested her head on his chest, enjoying listening to the air rush through his lungs and the beating of his heart, and he absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair.

          The lights of her dream were brightening now, and Abby knew she’d soon be awake.

          “I don’t want to wake up without you there,” she said brokenly, realizing returning to the real world meant facing another day with Jaha and ALIE instead of him. “I don’t want to be without you.”

          “Once all of this is over, you won’t,” he promised. “You’ll never wake up alone again.”

          She pressed a kiss to his neck, and he kissed her forehead in return.

         “May we meet again,” he said, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes.

          “We will.”

                                                    ********

          She awoke with the ghost of his lips in her hair and his arms around her waist. Her sheets had become wrapped around her legs during the night yet again, and with an exasperated sigh she began the process of untangling herself.

          With shaking hands, she picked up her little journal and began to write down everything she remembered – especially the new memories she’d recalled while kissing him. While they were more fragmented now than they had been in her dream world, they were still there in puzzle pieces. She just had to learn how to put them together.

         _Chancellor’s Pin. TonDC. Mount Weather. Helping with Chancellorship. Saved from execution. Kiss. May we meet again._

        And then her mind decided to gift her with a final line. A name.

         _Marcus Kane._


End file.
